


Dungeons and Dragons and Damn I Caught Feelings

by ActiveAggression



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, M/M, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-23 13:30:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23312251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActiveAggression/pseuds/ActiveAggression
Summary: “You’ve been trying to get us together,” he accuses, then realises his thought train and frowns. “Through dnd? How the fuck was that ever meant to work?”Phasma eyes him, shrugs. “I don’t know. You’re both gigantic nerds. I thought some synergy on the battlefield might inspire some synergy in the bedroom.”
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 16
Kudos: 127





	Dungeons and Dragons and Damn I Caught Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. 
> 
> This was inspired by prompts that I got from... somewhere. A page on tumblr? Idk. I started this in 2018 okay, I'm a mess. 
> 
> Prompts include: 
> 
> \+ “Who invited you here, exactly?” “Well, nobody, but the door was open -” “No it wasn’t.” “It was unlocked -” “No it fucking wasn’t.”
> 
> \+ “Sometimes you have to poke the bear.” “Well, this is a dragon, so your point is invalid and we’re leaving.”
> 
> \+ “Well, I’m no expert – ” “Then shut up.”
> 
> \+ “I didn’t know! I didn’t know you had feelings!”

“Ahead of you, there’s a gaping hole.” 

Poe snorts and mutters something that sounds like, “I wish.” 

Phasma ignores him. “It appears to be an entrance into the mountain.” 

“I’d like to look around,” Finn requests, despite everyone at the table knowing he’s got the lowest wisdom of the whole party. 

“Roll perception,” Phasma says and they all watch as Finn expertly rolls a one on the twenty-sided die. 

“Fuck,” he says, staring at it, “again?” 

Poe bursts into laughter, closely followed by Rey. Ben sits impassively over the other side of the table, but Hux sees the corner of his mouth quirk upwards. 

“You notice,” Phasma starts, “the sky. It seems to be… grey.” 

Finn nods, sits straighter in his chair. “Sky’s grey guys,” he reports. 

“Whatever would we do without you?” Hux drawls, then, “I’m approaching the cave, watching for any signs of dangerous creatures that may lurk within.” 

“Lurk within,” Poe mumbles, “fuck that’s a good one.” 

“It’s dark inside,” Phasma starts, “the rock dark grey and cracked with an odd form like a frozen ocean.” 

Fuck. 

“Heat seems to emanate from within.”

Fucking fuck. 

“The heat follows a rhythm, warm dry air blowing out of the entrance of the cave in long increments every ten seconds or so. It smells strange to you, smokey and spicy.” 

_ Fuck. Oh that is so totally a dragon. Dragon territory through and through.  _

Hux flips through his character sheet, already knowing he won't find any connection to dragons there. He may know they’re walking into something infinitely fucking dangerous, but his character doesn’t. 

He glances at Rey, pretty sure her background has  _ something  _ about dragons. She notices his look and smiles semi-sweetly at him. Doesn’t say a single thing about how they’re walking into a dragon lair. 

It’s fair, he supposes. Her background’s something desert related which means blue dragons and brown dragons, not red ones. And she hasn’t been playing long enough to recognise the signs unless they’re written right the fuck in front of her. 

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Finn asks. “I’d like to enter the cave please.” 

Phasma nods, an evil smile barely concealed within. “F. N. Almighty steps into the cave.” 

Rey laughs at the name Finn stupidly gave himself and he offers an unrepentant smile. He stopped being ashamed of it six or so sessions ago. 

“A wave of warmth hits you,” Phasma continues, addressing Finn, “the cave appears to spiral downwards, almost like a staircase, and the bottom is glowing with orange light.” She pauses, glances around the faces.  “Yes, there is a huge pit in the middle of this staircase,” she clarifies. “The rock is dark, definitely volcanic, and there are several stalactites hanging above the pit.” 

Everyone groans. They’ve run into two Ropers so far this campaign and aren’t excited for a third. Alongside that is the whole  _ hanging above the pit  _ thing, which isn’t exciting. 

A Roper could easily grab them, reel them in and drop them into the long fall waiting below. And if the fall doesn’t kill them, there’s almost certainly a red dragon down there happy to finish them off. 

Hux glares at Phasma and she offers a faux innocent smile back. 

Fin coughs uncomfortably. “Do they appear to be normal stalactites?” 

Phasma shrugs. “Roll a perception check.” 

Finn does and predictably gets a one. “What the fuck,” he says. 

Poe chuckles and Rey does something more akin to giggling. Ben, sitting beside Rey, seems less than pleased by it. He’s probably never experienced giggling in his entire life; sullen, uncharismatic jerk that he is. 

“Look like stalactites,” Phasma deadpans. 

“Hey guys,” Finn calls, almost as if he is in a cave while everyone else is still not. “These stalactites... appear to be stalactites.” 

“Wonderful,” Hux mutters and, with a long look at Phasma, “I’d like to enter after him.” 

“Same,” Poe chimes in and everyone murmurs their agreement. Aside from Ben, he just sits there looking thoughtful. Hux sighs. As much as he hates to admit it, he’d really rather not progress without Kylo Ren. 

They’d had a near party wipe a while ago where everyone bar Kylo and Brendol died. Their team, being the stupid, well-meaning, amateurs they are decided they didn’t want their characters to start at a higher level and all went back down to level one with their new characters. 

Even after a couple of sessions, Hux is pretty sure he and Ben are carrying the team. Especially since Finn fucking died again last week. 

“Get in here Ren,” Hux calls, frustrated. 

More frustrated when Ben simply smirks and says, “missing me, gingerbread?” 

Hux should never have made Brendol a redhead too. He’s about to make some snippy retort when Phasma rolls a die. 

Fuck. 

“A stalactite from the clump in the middle of the cave begins to move,” she says. 

“Oh fuck off,” Finn responds sourly. His last character died to a Roper. 

“Shadowy tentacles start to form,” Phasma continues. 

“Sounds like your Friday night, Hux,” Poe interjects. 

Phasma shoots him a look then turns to face Rey. “Rey. You notice the movement before the others and have time to take an action before it attacks. What do you want to do?” 

“I take out my bow,” she says, miming pulling something over her shoulder, “and shoot it in the eye.” 

Rey chose to be a ranger because she didn’t know it was a dumb choice and still doesn’t to this day. It would be okay if she’d chosen helpful spells but no, ‘Water breathing’ and ‘speak with plants’ were too important. 

“Roll an attack,” Phasma says. 

Rey practically throws the die at the table and it lands with a perfectly respectable sixteen. Add three for proficiency. Add four for dexterity. 

“Twenty-three?” Rey asks hopefully. 

“No, it doesn’t hit,” Phasma deadpans. “Roll damage.” 

Rey throws that one too and it bounces up to hit Hux in the chin. 

“Stop throwing it like that,” he grumbles, passing it back. 

She rolls this time. Gets a two. 

Poe starts cackling again, protected from her vicious elbows by Finn who’s looking very steadily at the table. 

“Six damage,” she says and Hux can see Phasma’s arm jerk as she writes it down. 

Phasma sits back, glances at them all. “Roll initiative.” 

They roll, each having a set of dice after Ben got fed up with sharing and brought about thirty sets on eBay. His are, unsurprisingly, red and black. What was surprising was how he’d thrown a bag of dice at the table and said “have at it”, then turned to Hux and quietly presented him with his own set. 

Hux rolls his own smokey black die, watching the spin until a dark gold thirteen comes up. 

Phasma smiles. It’s a little frightening. “Anyone over twenty?” she asks. 

“Twenty-one,” Rey says. 

As if to one-up her, Ben leans in and mumbles, “twenty-four.”  Finn rolls his eyes. Rey has ridiculous dexterity, but Kylo Ren is a  _ rogue _ and no rogue has ever been beaten in the dex game.

“Twenty to fifteen?” 

“Fifteen,” Hux and Poe say simultaneously. 

“Fifteen to ten?” Phasma asks. 

Finn says nothing. 

“Ten to five?” she asks skeptically. 

“It’s a three,” he mumbles. 

Rey leans over to peer at his sheet.  “At least you didn’t roll another one,” she offers. 

Finn just sighs. 

Phasma claps her hands, weirdly perky, “Okay Kylo, what’s your plan?” 

“Seduction and destruction,” Ben mutters. Hux blinks, looks around the table. He’s not sure how he heard that and the others didn’t, but no one looks quite as bewildered as he is. “I cast sleep,” Ben says a little louder. 

Phasma raises her eyebrows. “Uh okay,” she says. “Roll… seven d8.”

Ben does, somehow gets an eight on six dice and a seven on the remaining die.

Phasma sighs. “It’s asleep.” She types something into her laptop and sighs harder. “It falls from the ceiling.” 

Ben nods. “I’d like to use the rest of my movement to stand by Brendol.”

“What,” Hux mutters, “you gonna hold my hand?” 

Ben’s mouth quirks but he says nothing. 

“Is anyone watching it fall?” Phasma asks. 

They all shrug, look at each other. “We all are?” Rey says finally. 

Phasma nods. “The unconscious monstrosity hits the cave floor below. It’s a fair fall, but not as far as it initially seemed. As you’re watching a scaled red nose appears from somewhere below you and investigates the creature that has fallen into its lair. It wavers a split second then goes in for the easy kill, biting down and dragging the creature away.” She rolls. “Just before it leaves your sight it looks up the pit, noticing you all. Everyone but Hux and Ben, roll a wisdom saving throw.”

“What?” Poe asks. 

Hux just stares across the table at Ben. Ben had guessed, rightly so, that it was a dragon. Not a hard leap. But he’d also known an adult dragon could frighten creatures 120ft away  _ and  _ that any creature within 10ft of Brendol couldn’t be frightened. He’d stood beside him  _ strategically _ .

“A little meta,” he comments and Ben grins. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Kylo likes you, is all.” 

“Brendol,” Hux corrects. 

“Sure.” 

Poe glances between them. “Why am I rolling?”

“Adult dragons have a frightful presence,” Hux explains, “any creature within 120ft has to make a DC19 Wisdom saving throw or become frightened.” 

Poe glances at Hux sullenly. “Why don’t they have to roll?” 

“I can’t be frightened,” Hux says smugly, “and no one within 10ft of me can be either. Ben’s metagaming shamelessly and disguising it terribly.” 

Ben shrugs his huge shoulders and looks completely unbothered. 

“Okay,” Phasma says, “F.N, Daisy, Oscar (they’re all terrible with names), you are all frightened and run from the cave.” She glances at Hux, then Ben. “What are you two doing?” 

“Making a plan,” Hux says, “a plan to get the fuck out of here and never come back.” 

“Now who’s metagaming,” Ben says, smirking. 

“Fine,” Hux mutters, “I have heard many tales about how dangerous dragons are and I would like to  _ get the fuck out of here and never come back.”  _

“I would like… to ride it,” Ben offers. 

“What the fuck?” Hux says. “There are many things out there that you should ride. Horses, camels-” 

“My dick,” Poe chimes in, which would be disgusting except he’s using his ‘I’m trying to imitate Hux’ voice and that makes it - still disgusting, yeah - but also kind of not. Hux can feel his ears going red and keeps talking in the hopes no one will notice. 

“- but dragons are not one of them.” 

“I do what I want,” Ben says, and it’s so furiously unclear if he’s talking as himself or as Kylo or maybe some strange hybrid of the two. That being said, it’s never particularly clear. Hux gets the feeling Kylo Ren is more of an alter ego than a character, especially since Ben’s characters have died several times in the campaign and he always brings them back as the  _ same fucking character _ . Not just the same alignment or class or something, but literally the exact same character right down to the background story. The only thing he deigns to change is pushing the level back down to one. It’s ridiculous. 

“Is being stupid what you want?” 

Ben tilts his head and bares his teeth in a smile. “Sometimes you have to poke the bear,” he says as if it’s some proverb to live by. 

“Well,” Hux says, “this is a dragon, so your point is invalid and we’re leaving.” He turns to Phasma. “I’m going to follow the frightened puppies back down.” 

Phasma nods. “Okay.” She eyes Ben. “What about you?” 

Ben sighs, glancing mournfully down at his character sheet. He’s probably weighing up the pros and cons of staying alive over riding a dragon. 

“I must consult with my master,” he finally says. 

Everyone groans. 

“Can you not do your freaky mind shit right now?” Finn gripes. 

Ben frowns. “I must speak with him.” 

Phasma buries her face in her hands. “If you wanted some patron to consult every five seconds, why didn’t you choose warlock?” 

Ben makes this face like he never considered it. “Fine, next time I’ll be a warlock.” 

“Next time you could not be Kylo Ren,” Hux suggests. 

Ben turns his frown on Hux. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

-

“He’s fucking infuriating,” Hux complains, half-draped over Phasma’s bed. 

Phasma, sitting in her computer chair a few paces away, sighs. “Why are we always talking about Ben?” 

“Cause he’s  _ always  _ irritating. Why do you let him get away with this shit?”

Phasma raises a single blonde eyebrow. “What shit?”

“The  _ shit _ ,” Hux exclaims, throwing his arms out as some kind of emphasis. “With his evil dark overlord Snoke and the  _ tantrums  _ and his fucking rage mechanic and the telekinesis and…  _ and coming back as the same fucking character every time he dies.”  _

Phasma gives him a long look. “He wrote it into his backstory,” she justifies. 

Hux groans. “Of course he did. That makes it worse. You gotta stop homebrewing this weirdo crap for him.”

“I homebrewed Starkiller for you,” she counters, very effectively. 

Hux sighs, rolls over and buries his face in her duvet. He wishes she’d stop using Starkiller against him in arguments. It’s like a trump card.  _ Hey remember when I made that super OP longsword for you… _

“I know,” he admits, muffled, “just… Ren can fucking choke people with telekinesis. I mean, come on.” 

Phasma shrugs. “It’s in his backstory. And it’s got a  _ lot _ of limitations. You guys just haven’t figured them out yet.” 

Hux turns to stare at her. “Limi-  _ what  _ limitations?” 

Phasma smiles. “You know I can’t tell you that.” 

“Oh come on. I’d only use it against him all the time. Nothing major” 

“No,” Phasma says, shaking her head. “DM rules. No snooping.” 

Hux sniffs disdainfully, burying his head back into her blankets. He’ll work it out with or without her. 

-

“Ren,” Rey chastises, “stop that. Let him go.”

“No,” Hux says, “let him keep going. I wanna see if he can actually kill with this nonsense.”

“What?” Finn exclaims, “you’re supposed to be a paladin, man. Where’s your fucking lawful good?” 

Hux rolls his eyes. “Stop breaking my immersion. Come on Ren, kill him. Snap his tiny neck.”

“Bro,” Poe breathes, “What the hell.” 

“The stall owner’s neck breaks and he goes limp, dangling in thin air,” Phasma supplies. 

“Dead?” Hux clarifies, ignoring the looks he’s receiving from around the table. 

“Dead,” Phasma confirms. 

There goes that theory. 

“I throw his useless body aside and climb onto his market stall,” Ben says darkly. 

“His body lands among the crates scattered around and several citizens run away. Roll a dex check for the stall climb.” 

Ben rolls, gets a fourteen. 

“You make it,” Phasma shrugs. 

“I yell from the stall, for everyone in the marketplace to hear, ‘there will be no more overpriced watermelons as long as I shall live. If there are, I will hunt down and kill every last person responsible.” 

“Make an intimidation check,” Phasma deadpans. 

Ben rolls a nat twenty. “Twenty-eight,” he says. 

“They’re fucking terrified of you. Some of them run away. You don’t think they’ll overprice watermelons again. Probably in their entire lives.” 

“Good,” Ben says, “I climb down.”

“That was a bit of an overreaction,” Poe observes. 

Ben makes a growly noise which, while kind of cool, is super fucking weird. “They were charging ten gold for a single watermelon. It’s practically criminal. He deserved to die.”

“Well said,” Hux agrees, once again drawing concerned looks from his team. He turns to Phasma. “I’d like to pick up a couple of watermelons from the deceased vendor.” 

Phasma rolls. “You gain four watermelons.” 

“Man, what kind of Paladin _ are you _ ?”

-

“So,” Hux exclaims, “Ren can kill with his stupid telekinesis choke thing. Kill market vendors anyway. We should test it out on something larger. Like… a giant or something.” 

The whole team turns to stare at him. Even Ren does, though he looks a little less puzzled and more… smouldering - fuck, Hux is so fucked. 

“Man, what is with you at the moment?” Finn asks. “Are you not a paladin?” 

Hux rolls his eyes. “Yes I’m a fucking paladin, stop asking. I just think we have this huge homebrewed advantage and we have no idea how it works.” 

“I know how it works,” Ben mutters. 

“Sure, but you aren’t fucking sharing that knowledge, are you? You’re just choking out random people and some of them die and some of them don’t and… there needs to be some consistency.” 

Ben shrugs. “You’re welcome to try work it out, but it’s complicated. I don’t think you will.” 

“Shut up. I will. As soon as we find a hill giant to try it out on.” He turns to the others. “Yeah?”

There’s a pause, fueled by what seems like disbelief. “No!”

-

Ben has a game where he rages out, gets Kylo to strangle four banshees and none of them die. Hux isn’t under any illusions. It’s Phasma who decides if the creatures Kylo strangles die or not, but there doesn’t seem to be much consistency with what does or doesn’t. 

The hill giant - that yes they tracked down; the team is easily swayed by pizza - hadn’t died. 

The blue slaad at the end of an almost total party wipe did. 

The goblins Hux had been coaxing Ben to kill died almost as fast as Ben could say, “Using telekinesis-” 

If killing them was based on challenge rating, the slaad would’ve definitely survived and wiped them out. But it didn’t. 

Regardless, the banshees are quickly disposed of. With Kylo raging and Brendol’s Starkiller, it’s almost too easy. 

That session does lead Hux to a strange discovery, however. The combat interaction between his sword and Kylo is the most OP thing he thinks Phasma’s ever given him. It’s even more OP than the shit she gave him when she was trying to get Mitaka to quit the club. 

The interaction is this; if Brendol’s sword hits an enemy and reduces its hp to 0, all creatures within 30ft make a constitution saving throw. If they fail they take 4d6 psychic damage, or half on a success. Now, whenever Kylo takes psychic damage he enters what’s essentially a version of Barbarian  _ rage _ (Hux likes to call it the  _ wounded pride mechanic _ ).  The wounded pride mechanic gives Ren advantage on melee attacks and saving throws. It adds plus three to damage rolls and gives him resistance to pretty much every damage ever. 

So, whenever Brendol kills something and Kylo’s in range he takes six damage and becomes super fucking overpowered. 

He thinks maybe Phasma overlooked it and tries to bring it up with her, but she insists it’s intentional and that’s just…  _ weird.  _

Why would she give them the power to murder every enemy ever in two turns  _ intentionally? _

-

“We work well together Bren,” Ben says across the table, staring at the little lego figures on the battle grid. 

Hux grits his teeth and says nothing, because  _ they do _ but he’s not sure why. It’s all Phasma’s doing for sure, but she’s not really one for subtlety. That’s more Hux’s forte. 

Ben looks up at Phasma. “I’m gonna slice it open,” he says… “with my saber… sneakily.” 

He rolls the d20 two times, gets a fifteen then a nineteen. Add four for proficiency. Add five for dexterity mod. 

“Twenty-eight,” he says and doesn’t bother waiting for Phasma to tell him it hits. 

He rolls damage, a d8, and gets eight. It’s not surprising. Ben often rolls high. But then add three from raging and five from dex… and 5d6 from sneak attack (fucking rogues). 

“Thirty-eight slashing damage,” he finally proclaims. 

“Yeah,” Phasma mutters, “that thing is dead as a fucking doornail.”

Ben gives Hux a smug look. 

Hux groans, “Oh, fucking stop.” 

-

“He’s the worst member of dnd club we’ve ever had,” Hux complains. 

Phasma snorts. “Don’t be ridiculous. Remember Mitaka?” 

“Ben’s worse.” 

“Mitaka lacked an  _ imagination _ . Ben literally can’t be worse.” 

“Yet somehow…” 

“Eh,” Phasma says, flapping her hand dismissively at him. “You’re only mad cause you like him.”

Hux stares at her. Well then. That changes a lot.  _ He _ knows he likes Ben in a  _ want to crawl in his lap and bite his lip raw _ kind of way, but he didn’t think anyone else knew. 

If Phasma knows, maybe his and Ben’s ridiculous synergy is intentional in a completely different way than he realised. 

“You’ve been trying to get us together,” he accuses, then realises his thought train and frowns. “Through dnd? How the fuck was that ever meant to work?” 

Phasma eyes him, shrugs. “I don’t know. You’re both gigantic nerds. I thought some synergy on the battlefield might inspire some synergy in the bedroom.” 

Hux groans. He feels like burying his head in Phasma’s bedspread is all he fucking does anymore. “That’s going to get me absolutely nowhere,” he complains, “especially not into anyone’s pants.” He puts on a stupid impression of Ben’s voice. “Hey Hux, just noticed you and me are absolutely dynamite in dnd combat. Wanna see if it applies to other situations too?” 

Phasma snorts. “That’s the most Hux-like impression I have ever heard. Ben would never say that kind of stuff. He’d be all-” she lowers her voice and swings her head around dopily, “I’ve got a huge dick and everyone knows you’re a size queen. Wanna fuck?” 

Hux glares at her. “I am not a size queen.”

“Yes, you are.” 

“Okay maybe. But how do you know he’s got a huge dick?” 

Phasma grins. “Have you seen that guy? He’s a giant.”

“So are you,” Hux huffs, “and your dick’s tiny.”

“Bigger than yours.” 

-

“The guards lead you towards the castle entrance, heavily barricaded and bristling with weapons.” 

“I’ll handle this,” Hux says. He’s pretty sure he’ll have some kind of advantage here, given his noble background.  He’s also pretty sure the others will just manage to cock the whole thing up. This is about the most delicate situation they’ve faced so far in the campaign and unfortunately, he has a team of the most indelicate characters ever created. 

The gates are almost upon them when Finn hisses, “What should we do?” across the table, clearly addressing Hux. 

Hux opens his mouth to answer when-

Ben shrugs, eyes focused on some middle distance, and says, “Well, I’m no expert-”

“Then shut up,” Hux interrupts,  “I will do the talking. We will get the artefact and we will leave and none of you will say a thing. Got it?”

Silently everyone nods, aside from Ben, who grins and mumbles something. Hux picks out the word bossy and glares at him. 

Ben smirks, mimes zipping his lips shut and throwing away the key. 

In the end, it’s Finn who angers the Lord of the castle. He’s awkward in real life and somehow he’s even more awkward in dnd. They fight their way out - thankfully  _ with _ the artefact they were sent to retrieve - and it’s all so easy. 

It helps that Hux rolls the highest initiative, manages to one-shot an enemy and subsequently damages all the rest. Ren takes the psychic damage and then takes out the main bad guy in one fucking turn. After that Poe, Finn and Rey finish the rest off (mostly Poe and Rey). So fucking  _ easy. _

-

Hux is leaning his chair back on two legs, the only thing keeping him upright are his thighs trapped under the glass of the table. He’s a little zoned out, listening blankly as Phasma describes the enemies surrounding them. 

There’s something that sounds a little like a minotaur and then a bunch of vrocks (large demon-vulture things). It’s nothing that sounds particularly out their reach. Even Finn should be able to survive this one. 

“The bird-like creatures are large, their ugly grey wings reaching a few feet above your heads. The bull creature towers above even them, horns scraping sparks from the ceiling as it moves.” 

Hux looks up, frowns. “Larger than the birds?” he asks. Sure a minotaur  _ could  _ be bigger in the realm of large creatures, but it shouldn’t be able to  _ tower _ over creatures within its size category. 

“Yes,” Phasma says. 

“You’re sure?

“Very sure,” Phasma says, sounding irritated but also… amused?

Hux sits up, chair legs hitting the carpet with a hollow thud. “Can I estimate it’s height?”

Phasma shrugs. “It’s hard to tell, but it is much larger than the other creatures.” 

“Fuck,” Hux curses, leaning back again. He can see the other’s expression fall into ones of concern. He tries one last-ditch effort, “have I seen anything like this before?” 

Phasma shakes her head. “Nothing like this.” 

“Oh goodie,” Hux mumbles, letting his head fall back. If it had been a minotaur, they’d have been fine. More than fine. He and Ben would’ve killed that in moments. This though… Goristro. If it was on its own they’d be fine (if Finn didn’t die so fucking much they’d be fine) but with the Vrocks, he’s not so sure. 

“Roll initiative,” Phasma says. It’s possible she’s levelled it down to something more manageable - she’d done that with the roper that Ben put to sleep. Then again, after that, she’s probably less inclined to be nice to them. Phasma’s all about total party wipes and insurmountable odds. 

Hux rolls absently, trying to recall what he knows of the Goristro and then berating himself for it. His character doesn’t know, so he can’t know. 

“Above twenty?” Phasma asks, scribbling something behind her DM screen. 

“Twenty-two,” Ben answers, voice all choked like he hasn’t used it in a while. Hux peers at him, finds Ben staring intently at him. Ben looks away quickly but Hux gets the feeling he’s been staring a while, perhaps at the line of Hux’s throat when he was watching the ceiling. 

“Twenty to fifteen?” Phasma continues. 

“Eighteen,” Rey says, quickly followed by Poe who proclaims, “sixteen,” but is watching Hux too. He’s not staring like Ben, but watching with this furrow to his brow like  _ we’re about to fucking die again, aren’t we? _

Hux shrugs, inclines his head.  _ Probably.  _

“Fifteen to ten?” Phasma continues. “Ten to five? Hux?” 

Hux startles, turns to look at her. “Oh right, shit.” He glances at his die. Twenty. Huh. “Twenty-two.” 

Phasma rolls her eyes, mutters something undoubtedly rude and hunches over to adjust her numbers. 

“Finn?” she asks finally. 

Finn looks distinctly unhappy - particularly bad since they’re about to face a fucking Goristro. “Two.” 

Of fucking course. 

“Right,” Phasma says, nodding, “you two” she points to him and Ben, “are up first. What are you doing?” 

Hux sighs. He doesn’t want Brendol to die. “You should try choke him,” he says, turning to look at Ben. 

“Who?” Ben answers stupidly, staring at the lego figurines. The little yellow fucks are gathered together, surrounded on all sides by slips of paper with  _ vulture-hux hybrid  _ and a number scrawled over them in Poe’s unmistakable handwriting. Before them is the fucking creepy elf on the shelf Phasma gave him two Christmases ago, the one she insists needs the keep the place of honour on their bookshelf in the hall. Hux is pretty sure it’s not the closest representation of a Goristro she could find. He’s also pretty sure she picked it to fuck with him. 

Ben looks up. “The minotaur?” 

“Yes the fucking elf on the shelf motherfucker,” Hux hisses, frowning at the words leaving his mouth. He peers at his glass, tries to remember exactly how many whiskeys he’s had. Too many, by the sounds of things. 

Ben raises an eyebrow, turns to cast a skeptical look at Phasma. Phasma looks between them and groans. 

Hux tips his head to the side in contemplation. It makes his head feel kind of heavy and kind of nice. Phasma’s annoyed, which makes it seem like this will work… which… which…  _ fuck. _

“Do it,” Hux says, straightening up. “Do it, Ren.” 

Ben sits up too, almost mirroring Hux. He licks over his teeth, opens his mouth. “Using my telekinesis I grab the elf’s throat, cutting off its air supply.” 

“The elf?”

“The giant ass minotaur demon thing.”

Phasma rolls something twice and curses. “The force encompasses it and the huge creature is almost lifted from the ground as it starts to choke.” 

She pauses, seems to be waiting for something and in an odd moment of clarity, Hux realises. 

“Crush its windpipe,” he orders, “kill it.” 

Ben stares at him, brown eyes so dark. 

Hux isn’t at all surprised when Phasma blows out a breath and says, “it sags to the cave floor, dead.” 

Right. 

They wipe the floor with the vrocks and afterwards, as they’re celebrating and dividing loot, Hux turns to Ben and says, “so you need someone to tell you what to do,” and the entire table goes quiet. 

Ben’s mouth has fallen open - not far, just enough to betray his shock, just enough to reveal a white row of slightly uneven bottom teeth. 

“Uh,” Hux says, “I meant, to kill with your telekinesis thing. You need someone to tell you to do it, right?” 

Ben’s mouth closes and he lifts a huge shoulder into an almost shrug. “Something like that.” 

Hux grins. “Good.” 

Hux is clearing up the table, swiping lego figures into their Tupperware box when he gets the instinctual feeling he’s been watched. He turns to find Ben standing behind him, hands in his pockets,  _ lingering.  _

“You didn’t go with the others?” Hux asks. Usually Ben hitches a ride home with them. 

“I drove myself,” Ben says quietly. 

Hux frowns. He thinks he remembers something relevant but can’t quite… “You’ve been drinking though.”

Ben shrugs, nods. “Yeah. Phasma said I could stay?”

Hux blinks. Phasma  _ hates _ having people stay - ever since Mitaka; the lightweight. 

“On the couch?” Hux clarifies skeptically. Their couch isn’t exactly big and, well, Ben isn’t exactly small.

Ben glances at the thing - green, droopy, cost them twenty bucks - and raises his eyebrows. “She said you wouldn’t mind sharing?”

“I - what?” Hux splutters. He is going to  _ kill her.  _

“Is that not okay?” Ben asks, scratching across his chest in an almost bashful way. 

“I - I -  _ fuck _ . It’s fine. It’s just dandy.” Hux levels his half-rolled character sheet at the larger man, “but you better keep your freakishly big hands to yourself.” 

Ben is huge, taking up well over the amount of space Hux would prefer him to. The bed dips towards him ever so slightly and Hux has to very precariously balance himself with pillows else he’ll definitely start rolling… and that would mean warm, soft skin because apparently Ben can’t sleep with a fucking shirt on. 

So maybe Hux is freaking out just a little. 

He’s not equipped to deal with this. He’s never been equipped to handle shit like this. Usually, he just nopes his way out of situations where he finds people attractive. 

Occasionally he gets stuck with them and then it’s an unmitigated disaster where he usually ends up fucking them religiously for a week straight. That’s all okay until he gets sick of them and they won't go away and he has to sleep with their friends or brothers to get them to. 

Of course, then he has to get rid of the friends or brothers and that goes much the same way until he’s fucked the entire social circle, a couple of dads and everyone hates him. 

Ben shifts enough that Hux slides down next to him. And yeah, Ben’s skin is very warm, very soft, very pressed against Hux in a way that’s very bad for his resolution not to fuck Ben or his dad/brothers. 

“Ben?” Hux asks quietly. 

Ben hums as an answer, wrapping one huge arm around Hux. 

“... Do you have any brothers?”

“No?” Ben replies quietly, definitely a question. 

“And what about your dad? He live nearby? He… what’s he look like?” 

Ben sits up a little, brings his arm back to his side. “Hux, what?” 

“Just wondering,” Hux excuses. “We don’t know anything about each other.” 

“Yeah we do,” Ben says immediately. He sounds kind of hurt, like their months of dnd have made them the best of friends. 

Hux scoffs. “You don’t even know my first name.” 

Ben pauses, lies back down. “It’s not Hux?”

“My parents don’t  _ hate _ me,” Hux mumbles, “... actually, nevermind. They do.”

“What is it?”

“Armitage,” Hux admits. He blames the whiskey. 

Ben says nothing for a long while. Eventually, he starts shaking with what Hux presumes to be laughter. 

“Shut up.”

“I - uh - fuck. I mean, fair’s fair,” Ben says, “my dad’s dead.” 

“Oh crap,” Hux says automatically. “Sorry,” he follows up in the most un-sorry voice ever. Empathy has never been his thing. 

“It’s cool,” Ren says, “I don’t really think about it anymore.” 

“Yeah,” Hux mumbles. Blessedly, his brain realises his complete inadequacy at dealing with the situation and he feels his eyelids drooping as sleep mercifully rushes over him. 

When he wakes up Ben’s gone and the bed feels huge and cold, and Hux doesn’t possess the willpower not to bury his face in the pillow Ben used and jerk off fast and tight until he’s spilling fucking everywhere. 

-

“Fuck, this again?” Finn questions, “can’t we get through a single market place without you going mental and killing somebody?” 

“No,” Ben growls, and he’s actually got his bloody stupid hand in the air, curled up like he’s actually strangling somebody. 

“He needs someone to tell him to though,” Poe shrugs, “otherwise it’s not murder, just…” 

“Maiming?” Rey suggests, nose buried in her character sheet. 

“Yeah,” Poe agrees, “exactly.” 

Hux frowns at them. Rey’s sudden interest in her character sheet means she’s probably trying to decide if water breathing will be useful here, but what’s infinitely more interesting is how Finn and Poe are leaning into each other's space - practically sharing the same air. 

“Kill him Ren,” Hux says, as nonchalantly as he can. If he’s honest, the ability to tell Ben what to do - to use Ren as a weapon - is weirdly arousing for him. For a while there, with their synergy, he’d felt like an extension of Brendol’s weapon. That had been one thing. This though, Kylo  _ being  _ Brendol’s weapon - an assassin only able to reach his full power when given permission - is something else entirely. 

Hux only wishes he was the only one with the power to tell Ren what to do. 

“What the fuck man?” Finn questions, “Paladin. Paladin. Does that even mean anything to you?”

“Kylo Ren crushes the shopkeeper’s windpipe,” Phasma interrupts. “The crowd continues on as if nothing is happening, like such events are usual within this market.”

Ben requests an audience with his weird master fucking again, but just before Phasma gets into it, she catches Hux’s eye and offers him a little smirk. Like she can tell how fucking turned on he is by it all. Like her weird dnd sex plan is working. 

Hux eyes Ben, imagines him tied up in Hux’s bed, begging and pleading for permission to touch, to come, to breathe. It may just be working. 

-

It’s a Tuesday, one of the few days of the week that the dnd club doesn’t get together. As such, Hux really isn’t expecting it when Ben plops down in the seat beside him and leans close to whisper harshly into his ear. 

“I got you figured out gingerbread. You’re playing it so well, but I know your game. You’re pretending to be good but I can see the truth. You’re bad. You’re evil. You got them all fooled but not me. I know you. I can see through you.” 

“Ben,” Hux hisses, “this is my lecture hall.” 

Ben looks around, lingers ominously on a couple of people eyeing him strangely and turns back to look at Hux. “That’s okay,” he offers. 

“No, it’s not,” Hux hisses, trying ineffectively to push him from his seat. “I’m trying to learn here. God, we’re playing tomorrow. Just save it for then.”

“I can’t confront you in front of the others,” Ben says far too loudly, corners of his mouth pulling down. “They don’t understand the difference between them knowing something and their characters knowing something.”

“I think they know I’m not exactly good Ben,” Hux counters lowly. “I keep telling you to kill people.” 

The girl on his other side gives him a strange look and shuffles a seat over. 

Ben slumps in his seat, still ridiculously large for the tiny lecture seats. “What is this even about?” he asks, gesturing at the front of the room. 

“Law,” Hux deadpans, considering the word is written almost twelve times over the PowerPoint. 

Ben sits and fidgets for all of a minute. “It’s boring,” he finally complains. 

Hux hunches over his notes and pretends to be writing something important. “Then fucking leave.” 

Ben doesn’t, not till the end of the lecture where he opens his mouth to say something, closes it, opens it, and leaves. Hux walks home and intently doesn’t think about it. 

-

Hux is a while away from the party when Phasma drops combat on them. Imps are pouring in from all directions and Hux curses, knows he’s too far away to get in on the first few rounds of combat. 

It’s particularly bad because Starkiller is the biggest AOE damage they have. 

They all roll, even Hux, but Phasma informs him of what he already knows. He can hear the commotion, can start towards it but he’ll be out for three rounds. Definitely. 

Ren goes first (of fucking course, he’s a  _ rogue _ after all). He casts sleep, rolls his seven d8, gets forty-three. 

Four imps go down, sent into a magical slumber, but Phasma’s evil and there are so many of them. Still, Hux is pretty sure by the time he gets there they’ll be through with them. There may be a lot, but they’re still just imps. 

“The floor trembles and two larger shapes burst out from behind the cloud of leathery wings and bulbous, sharp tails. These creatures are much larger than the imps, larger than you, flying through the darkness with dark wings. They fly fast, but you’re able to make out a few key details. They have curled horns and huge glowing forks.”

“Forks?” Poe questions deadpan. Beside him, Finn practically jumps out of his seat. He’s grinning and Hux cannot fathom why. 

“Pitchforks,” Phasma clarifies. 

Rey spends her turn slashing an imp to death, elbowing Finn as he fidgets beside her. 

Hux spends his turn running up a hill. 

The devils end up taking their turns at about the same time, one dealing some nasty blows to Poe and the other missing Rey once, twice, before finally getting her with its tail. Thankfully she makes the con save and doesn’t get a fucking  _ infernal wound.  _

Poe uses his turn to take down two imps. 

Finn, about to burst, speaks before Phasma even asks him what he’s doing. “Vicious mockery. One of the big guys,” he says. 

Phasma’s mouth twitches. Finn’s completely rubbish with insults. 

“Go on then.” 

“Hey you, with the ugly horns, what you gonna do? Hit me with your  _ gay little fork? _ ”

There’s a stunned silence. Poe starts clapping. Hux doesn’t want to but fuck, he’s laughing. Giggling really. 

Ben’s head snaps up and he stares at Hux like he’s a strange creature never before seen by the human race. 

Phasma rolls, rolls again. She usually does that for Finn’s mockery attempts, but this time Hux suspects she’s rolling disadvantage rather than advantage. 

“It hits. Roll damage.”

Finn rolls a three. It’s pretty good for the four-sided die, Hux just wishes Finn wasn’t still a level fucking four. 

Ben consults his character page for a long time, sends a long look at Hux, then peers at his paper again. “Saber,” he finally mutters. “Sneak attack, cause Poe’s right there getting fucked by it.”

He rolls a twenty. Add four. Add five. 

Phasma indicates he should roll damage, but he already is. One d8, doubled. No raging, but five from dex and 5d6 from sneak attack. 

Ben mutters for a bit, staring at the dice. “Forty-eight,” he finally says. 

“Fuck,” Poe mumbles. Hux has to agree. It’s not like the things dead, but forty-eight damage is a lot. 

Rey slashes yet another imp to death, probably completely oblivious to how helpful any spell other than  _ speak with plants _ could be. 

“Hux,” Phasma says, turning to him. 

Hux opens his mouth, halfway to a word when Finn butts in. 

“Isn’t Hux your last name?” he asks. 

Hux suppresses a sigh. “Yes. Must we do this right now?” 

“Why - uh - why don’t you go by your first name?”

Ben starts shaking with badly repressed laughter and Hux shoots him a look,  _ don’t you fucking dare.  _

“I prefer Hux,” he answers, “and I would like… to run up this hill some more. Make it a dash.” 

Phasma nods distractedly into her notes. 

They end up not winning exactly, but not at a total party wipe either. Daisy and F.N Almighty end up dead together, and Hux has to make up for Ren’s terrible medicine rolls at the last minute to save Poe. 

He’s cleaning up afterwards when huge hands join his on the table, deftly picking up little lego figurines and dice. 

“Ben,” Hux notes, “you’re staying again?”

Ben keeps his eyes on the table, shrugging his ridiculous shoulders. “I might.”

“Do you have a way back? I thought the others left?”

Ben shrugs again, biting his bottom lip and still absolutely refusing to meet Hux’s eyes. “They did.”

“So, you’re staying?” Hux asks, and he really just wants to go to bed and stop being a part of whatever the fuck this conversation is. 

Ben stills and finally looks up at him. “Do you want me to?” 

Hux pauses, staring at Ben. It’s kind of a loaded question. Its kind of like Ben knows Hux is into him, and possibly even knows that Hux loves telling people what to do, which… which… fuck it’s really not good. Except for how it’s  _ really  _ good. He exhales a long breath. 

“If you want,” he mutters, “I don’t mind.” 

Ben’s brow furrows and for a second he looks disappointed, but then it’s gone and he’s lumbering his way over to Hux’s room without another word. 

Like last time Ben is huge and Hux can feel the mattress dropping under his weight. In response, Hux curls up on the very edge of his mattress and squeezes his fingers into the gap between the fabric of his sheets and the base of the bed. It helps anchor him, except for his traitorous thoughts which cannot be anchored and cannot be stopped and continue in an everlasting loop of  _ let go, touch him, tell him you want him, let go.  _

“Hux,” Ben finally whispers after a long half-hour of stiff feigned sleep. Hux clenches his jaw and ignores it. He’s sure if he turns and sees Ben right now he won't be able to help himself. 

Eventually, Ben sighs and Hux feels him turn the other way. It’s not quite so hard to fall asleep. 

Hux groans, caught in that feeling of perfect wet-hot-tight mouth and he’s thrusting up hard to meet every movement. He can feel Ben’s fingers everywhere - wrapped around his ankle, digging into his thigh, holding his hips in place, creating beautiful friction on his dick. 

Hux isn’t dumb, and he’s not very good at dreaming either. He can’t let himself fall into the logic-less palace of dream state as some people can. There are too many hands on him for real life. There’s also far too much sex with Ben happening for it to be real life. 

Hux throws his head back and can’t help thinking  _ dreams are fucking terrific.  _

Then he’s being shaken, falling out of his fantasy into reality where Ben’s leaning over him and saying his name all tight and contained,  _ Hux Hux Hux,  _ rough hand clamped over his shoulder - they really are big - and Hux thinks absently that Ben can’t really know what he was dreaming about. 

That is, until he realises he’s got his hand wrapped tight around his dick - under the covers, under his underwear - jerking it in quick motions. 

He snatches it back and uses his other hand to push Ben away. “Fuck,” he croaks, “sorry.” 

“It’s alright,” Ben mumbles, staring down at his shoes. Hux blinks, takes in Ben’s shoes, jeans, shirt. He’s dressed and Hux can’t help but hope he started jerking himself off after Ben got his clothes on, and Ben wasn’t just casually getting dressed as it was happening. 

Hux squints at Ben. It’s possible. He is a massive weirdo. 

“You’re dressed,” he says. 

Ben nods. “I have work,” he says shortly, like there aren’t more connotations behind what Hux was asking - the  _ how long have I been dream jerking off  _ and  _ how long were you watching me.  _ Then he gets up and goes, leaving Hux behind, still hard and gaping after him. 

-

“He’s the worst,” Hux complains to Phasma’s mattress, lying face down on it. 

Phasma snorts. “You just walked in here with a boner.”

“Yeah,” Hux mumbles, “that’s why he’s the worst.” 

Phasma touches him, an oddly comforting gesture from her, until she slaps him upside the head. “Man the hell up and fuck him. God knows he wants it.” 

Hux sighs. “But what if I end up fucking his brother?”

“He doesn’t have a brother.”

“Sister then.”

“You are the gayest gay to ever gay. I’m not even sure you know what a vagina is. Also, he doesn’t have one.”

“A vagina?”

“A sister. Don’t play dumb,” Phasma scolds. 

“Father,” Hux groans. 

“Ben doesn’t have that either, Hux. Just fucking go for it.” 

“But if he doesn’t have any family, how do I get rid of him after?” 

“You don’t want to get rid of him,” Phasma comments, which is… just so so illogical. Hux gets bored of  _ everyone _ . It’s his thing. 

“I  _ could _ sleep with his friends,” Hux says, faux agreeing with the statement Phasma didn’t say. 

Phasma sighs. “He doesn’t have any friends.” 

“Fuck,” Hux wails, rolling around her bed, “I don’t want to sleep with Poe.” 

“Oh my fucking god,” Phasma swears and then she’s forcefully kicking him out of her bed onto the ground. “Get out. I don’t like you. I’m not your friend, and I don’t have to listen to your problems.” 

Hux rubs his face against her carpet. “I should just sleep with him,” he mumbles. 

-

Hux zones out for a lot of their next session. He doesn’t want to. He loves dnd. It’s just… he loves sex more and Ben is sitting there, hulking, quiet, awkward, and he keeps glancing up at Hux over the table. Hux tries to read something in the looks but all he’s getting is  _ order me around, tell me what to do, pin me down, take me  _ and figures he might just be seeing what he wants to see. 

When the session finally gets to combat, Hux rolls abysmally. He relays the number absently to Phasma and settles in for the long wait. It’s obvious Phasma’s getting irritated by his inattention but he can’t bring himself to look away from Ben’s mouth.  _ Sorry,  _ he thinks and makes a mental note to buy her a hunting knife or something. She’ll forgive him. 

He zones in enough to figure out Kylo’s strangling someone again. Hux swallows his need to say  _ go for it, kill them _ . Telling Ben what to do seems intrinsically linked to his cock and the table’s made of glass. All in all, a bad idea. 

He settles for watching Ben’s knee shaking under the table. 

“Kill it Kylo,” Finn eventually says, loudly enough that Hux glances up and over at Phasma. She smirks, looks positively evil for a long second. 

“The beast continues to flap its wings and struggle against the invisible hold.” 

The table blinks. Ben’s mouth quirks just a little. Hux sits up straighter. 

“What are we fighting again?” he asks. 

“Wyvern,” Poe answers, lifting an eyebrow.

Hux frowns, looks between Phasma and Ben. The telekinesis chokehold should definitely work on a wyvern, especially since it worked on fucking  _ Goristro _ . There’s no reason it wouldn’t, except… except... “Oh you sneaky bitch,” he curses, addressing Phasma. He can’t believe it. He really just - “wring it’s filthy neck Kylo.”

“As you watch, the long neck collapses in on itself as if crushed by an invisible hand,” Phasma says. “The wyvern collapses to the cave floor, dead.”

Ben’s watching him intently. Hux shakes his head, disbelief still guiding his actions. He  _ is  _ the only one to command Kylo. Kylo can’t kill without Brendol telling him to. It’s… fuck it’s hot. 

And, if Phasma’s the one behind all of this, he’s gonna fucking kill her. 

-

“Did you do this on purpose?” he asks, for once sitting at the kitchen bench rather than buried face down in her mattress. Everyone left a little while ago, Ben hovering until Hux told him outright he should go. Even then the hulking great idiot tried to linger, shoes pulled on slowly and incompetently, steps measured and halting. 

Hux had wanted to tell him to stop being so useless, to be better, to  _ get down on his knees and fucking beg _ , but he had to talk to Phasma first. So he shut the door in Ben’s pouty face and watched out the peephole until he left. 

“Do what on purpose?” Phasma asks innocently, sliding a mug of tea over to him. Hux glances at the contents, nose wrinkling. He bloody hates tea. 

“Only  _ I _ can command Ren,” Hux says, “really? Was this your idea?”

Phasma rolls her eyes. “I may be a control freak but I don’t write characters for people.”

“So it was Ren’s idea then?” Hux asks urgently. 

Phasma pauses, takes a long drink from her mug. “You mean Ben?” she clarifies finally, a pointed  _ something  _ in her tone which Hux chooses to ignore. 

“Ben’s idea, whatever.” 

“Ben’s backstory is all his,” Phasma says. “I don’t want to be associated with it in any way. It’s really complicated. A little fucked up too.” 

“Okay?” Hux asks, a plan half-formed in his mind to sneak into Phasma’s room and take a look at the character sheets. She surely won't tell him. 

Phasma frowns. “Honestly his backstory is like the weirdest foreplay ever.” 

“Foreplay?”

Phasma shrugs. “You’ve gotta figure it out for yourself, but yeah. It’s totally foreplay.” With that she takes the remainder of her tea and Hux’s untouched mug and walks out the door, leaving Hux more confused than ever. 

-

“Hey paladin bro,” Finn says in a mangled whisper, leaning over Poe to get into Hux’s space. Unfortunately for everyone, Finn’s new character - a gnome paladin called Boyega - inspired him enough to attempt a character voice. It wavers through lispish and nasally, but usually just ends up being annoying. 

“What?” Hux asks flatly. They’re travelling from one city to another and usually, Phasma would just skip it, but this time Finn cut in saying he wanted a more authentic travelling experience. 

“I’ve been reading up about paladins,” Finn continues and Hux has no idea why he’s using his character voice still if he’s no longer talking in character. He interrupts to ask and Finn just shrugs, says it’s a hard voice to just jump back into. 

Poe jumps in to compare the concept to  _ method actors _ and Finn gets flustered, starts stuttering and completely loses his gnome voice. 

“Damn,” he curses, sounding out a couple of words before launching into a completely different voice. “Anyway,” he squeaks, “as a fellow paladin, I was wondering what deity you follow?”

Hux blinks, wishes he was a part of the conversation happening at the other end of the table. He opens his mouth to say  _ I don’t have one _ , when an idea hits him and he can’t help the sharp laugh from leaving his mouth. 

Phasma turns to frown at him and he gestures her closer to whisper in her ear.  _ Can I make Snoke my deity? _

Phasma’s mouth turns up at the corners. Snoke is Kylo’s big bad leader whom he converses with on a regular basis. Whenever he does, he and Phasma leave the room and whisper in the hallway for about five minutes. Hux taking Ren’s leader as his deity is probably a pretty big fuck you, but he can’t help the thought of him too leaving the room and fucking about for five minutes in the hall with Phasma before coming back in and arguing with Ren about the Supreme Leader’s wishes. 

Phasma tilts her head, considers. “Yeah okay,” she finally says, “you believe in what you want to believe.”

Hux turns back to Finn, catching Ben’s curious gaze as he goes. “Well, I actually found myself losing faith in my deity a while back,” he says, quietly, almost shamefully, “and I felt so lost. But recently I have come to admire the teachings of a new leader.”

Finn looks confused. Possibly because Hux is talking in character and Finn still doesn’t quite know when to be his character and when to be himself. “Oh - uh, who?” 

“The Supreme Leader Snoke, of course,” Hux declares. 

Ben’s head snaps around and he stares, like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. “You - you believe in the Supreme Leader’s teachings?” he asks, clearly wanting to break character to yell at him. 

“Oh yes,” Hux answers, nodding seriously, “he brings great insight into our lives and leads us down the path of logic and enlightenment. I mean, look at you.” 

-

“I wish to speak with the Supreme Leader,” Ben says quietly. 

Everyone groans aside from Hux who grins. “Me too,” he adds, grinning at Phasma. 

She glances between them and sighs. “I’m not fucking doing it separately,” she mutters, “come on then.”

They herd out of the door, leaving the others chatting aimlessly behind them. 

Hux waits for Ben to start talking or maybe for Phasma to open with a  _ why have you come to me, my son?  _ There's nothing. They stare balefully at each other. 

Hux glances between them and clears his throat. “So, how do you guys usually do this?” 

Phasma shrugs, gestures helplessly at the situation. “Like this.” Her hands fall to her sides and she goes quiet again. 

“You guys just stand out here and say nothing?” Hux clarifies. 

Phasma nods. 

“Then how is Snoke supposed to guide you?” he asks, posing the question to Ben. 

Ben scowls, says nothing. 

“You-” Hux begins but then it clicks. “Snoke doesn’t fucking exist, does he? It’s all for show. So we think you’re off serving a greater power but you’re just serving yourself.”

Ben winces. “Not exactly.” 

“Not exactly.  _ Not exactly?  _ What’s your explanation then, Ky-lo,” he near shouts, drawing out Ben’s character name mockingly. 

“Uh,” he hears from the other room, probably Poe’s voice, “you guys okay out there?” 

“Just fucking dandy,” Hux calls back and turns his attention back to Ben, who looks small and angry all at once. 

“Snoke is a cover,” Ben admits, “because you guys can’t know what I’m really doing here.”

“Why don’t you explain?” Hux continues. 

“Hey now,” Phasma cuts in, “this is getting a little too metagamey for me.”

Hux can’t help the frustrated noise that escapes him. He needs to know goddamnit. He needs to know what’s going on in Ben’s mind, why  _ he  _ \- not Phasma - made his character follow Hux’s orders and only Hux’s orders. Is it foreplay? Is this the foreplay? Or is it something else entirely. The plan to sneak into Phasma’s room and look at the character sheets solidifies in his mind. 

-

Their next session is going fine. Right up until Hux stupidly, and a little drunkenly, admits he named Brendol the character after Brendol the father. His father.

“Hold up,” Poe says in the sudden still silence, “you named your character after your dad?” 

“Yes,” Hux says, rubbing his eyes. He really should’ve thought this through. Thought it through enough to avoid having stupid conversations like this. 

“Your paladin,” Poe continues, “who acts so high and mighty, and is secretly evil.” 

“Yup.”

“You named him after your  _ dad? _ ”

“It would seem so,” Hux sighs. 

Poe narrows his eyes and leans further across the table. “And this has no bearing whatsoever on your own relationship with your father?” 

Hux levels a cool glare at him, ready to tell him to fuck off or suck his own dick or  _ something,  _ but Phasma gets there first. 

“Back off,” she says, calm, firm, terrifying. She’s holding a rolled-up set of character notes in her hand and Hux has no doubt she could use the papers as a lethal weapon if she wanted to. 

“But-” Poe tries, and silences almost instantly as Ben rises from his seat and looms over the smaller. Hux tries to feel nothing, but can’t help feeling thankful. 

-

For all that Hux is the strongest, he hardly ever ends up taking many hits. Usually, Poe weathers them with his snarky charm and consistently decent rolls. 

This time the abominable yeti charges right past his companions, prompting a glare from Hux and a cheeky smile from Phasma. He doesn’t make the chilling gaze con save, takes one claw attack and, luckily, is missed by the second as Phasma rolls a three then a one. 

“Thirty-five damage,” Phasma declares and turns to raise an eyebrow at Ben. “You doing anything hotshot?” 

“What?” Hux cuts in. Ben just had his turn, spent it slashing a wolf to death. He rolled the highest initiative, as all rogues do, and had looked so smugly satisfied that Hux couldn’t help but picture him tied up and on his knees.

“I will use my reaction,” Ben starts - and yeah, really  _ what.  _ His  _ reaction? _ “to distract the yeti, run towards it and sink my saber into its ankle.”

“Reaction,” Hux repeats, trying to get one of them to make sense of it for him. 

Phasma ignores him, and Ben, after seeing her response, intently copies it. 

“Man, didn’t he just have a turn?” Finn asks, a new record for how slow his brain can work. Poe leans in, all suave like, and whispers something in his ear. Finn turns red and stutters out a couple of syllables but it’s his usual reaction to Poe and Hux decides not to read much into it. 

“Your attack hits,” Phasma announces. Hux hadn’t even seen him roll the dice. “Roll damage.”

“I don’t imagine this one will be sneak attack,” Ben says, mouth quirking and Hux has a moment between his stomach clenching and heart lurching when he realises Ben’s joking _ , and  _ it’s really cute. He rolls the d8, gets a six. Add five for dex. 

“The yeti yowls but doesn’t move. Your attack clearly hurt, but not enough to get it to back down.”

“What the hell,” Hux manages. 

Phasma moves on like what happened was normal, but Hux can’t stop staring at Ben. 

-

“What the hell  _ was _ that earlier?” Hux questions, hoping standing for once rather than sprawling out on Phasma’s bed will gain him some kind of interrogative traction. 

Phasma doesn’t even look up from her book. “Stop trying to metagame Hux,” she scolds and, as if to mock him, turns her page. 

“His  _ reaction? Reaction!?  _ His fucking  _ reaction  _ Phasma!?”

“Yes,” she says, waving him off, “I was actually there. Hell, I even DM’d it.” 

There’s a knock on her door, and without waiting for an answer, it swings open to reveal Ben. 

“The others are leaving,” he says lowly, and as if he couldn’t really care less. 

“Right,” Hux says, “yes.” He pushes his hair back, straightens his shirt, and adopts his  _ host face.  _

He hears Phasma snort behind him and, ignoring her with as much dignity as he can muster, strides past Ben to the front door. 

He’s waving at them from the doorway when Ben appears from the hallway behind him. He stops beside Hux, running his fingers almost sheepishly through his hair as the car pulls away. 

“You aren’t going with them?” Hux wonders. 

“I - uh - thought you might want to share… your bed… again?”

Hux schools his expression into a cool stare, trying to calm his heart jackrabbiting in his chest. “Are you flirting with me Ben?” he asks bluntly. 

Ben shrugs, which Hux wouldn’t usually take as an answer. But a shrug in the face of  _ are you flirting with me?  _ is definitely an answer. 

“Okay,” Hux says, stepping back inside. It’s a daft idea, he knows. Just because Ben doesn’t have a brother or father to sleep with, doesn’t mean Hux won't still fuck this up. But he’s horny and a little drunk, and even more drunk on the idea of telling Ben what to do.

Ben follows him up the stairs silently and undresses himself in the dark of Hux’s room just as quietly. Hux takes a step closer and touches Ben’s neck, his jaw, his cheek. 

It’s delightful when Ben tips his head into the presses, mouths at Hux’s wrist and kisses his way up Hux’s arm to his mouth. They kiss for a long long time, Hux fully dressed and Ben wearing only tight black underwear. 

The entire thing’s delightful. Hux sheds his own clothing eventually, when Ben’s shuddering into his neck and making these really very gorgeous noises. 

He goes to lead Ben to the bed and frowns when the larger man doesn’t move. Instead Ben gives him this pleading look and brings Hux over to his desk chair, waiting for him to sit then kneeling before him. 

It’s really very good. Great even. The best that Hux has ever had, and he’s fucked his way through entire families before. 

They move to the bed, Ben’s mouth red and plump and used. So good. 

Hux fingers himself open while braced over Ben, the other’s long fingers like anchors against his ribs and hip. So perfect. So good. Hux can’t think, Hux can’t  _ breathe.  _

Ben kicks his underwear off when he’s told, gasps so prettily when Hux sinks down on him. The condom wrapper is digging into his knee but Hux finds he barely cares, just lifts himself up and loses himself in the feeling. He hasn’t had a dick this good in forever. 

When he tells Ben to fuck him, he’s not expecting the sheer intensity of the upward thrusts. It feels like he’s being lifted off the bed entirely and then being deposited exactly back on that damn condom wrapper, splitting open at the seams and feeling so so warm. 

It’s all perfect, until… until… 

“Come on Ben, harder. Fuck me.” 

“Call me Kylo,” Ben mumbles into his neck. 

Hux stills. “What?”

A flush works it’s way over Ben’s cheeks. “Uh, call me Kylo?” he asks unsurely. 

Hux raises an eyebrow. He should’ve fucking known. Ben’s a freak about Kylo. He’s tempted to say fuck no and get off of Ben’s dick and walk away and make fun of him for ever and ever and ever. But fuck, it’s such a nice dick. 

Hux yields. He raises up on his knees and lowers himself down again, leaning down to whisper in Ben’s ear. “Come on Kylo. Fuck me, want you so bad.” And other such nonsense. He’s never been good at dirty talk, but Ben seems to think he’s just fine from the way he moans and grabs at Hux everywhere he can with those stupidly enormous hands. 

-

But then Hux wakes up alone. Normally he’d be happy with a development like this.  _ A one night stand who knows his place. Good.  _

Except Ben wasn’t a one night stand.  He’s huge and weird and a  _ pain in the ass _ , but Hux likes him anyway. Somehow. For some reason. 

He searches for a note. There isn’t one. He keeps searching anyway, naked, sore, for a good ten minutes. Nothing. 

Yeah, okay. He gets it. Hux is a little too much - too mean, too dramatic, too high maintenance - so yeah. He understands. It’s fine. It’s rational. 

-

It takes less than two hours for his numb sad understanding to morph into righteous anger. 

-

It’s been three days and, honestly, Hux is still a little sore. 

He spends his day cleaning the house and avidly not thinking about Ben’s mouth and hands and how he hasn’t heard from Ben since.  _ He’s  _ meant to be the one to run off and fuck Ben’s relatives until Ben hears the news through the family grapevine. Idly he spares a thought that maybe it’s his day of karma and Ben’s busy fucking his way through Hux’s family but Phasma is more Hux’s family than his blood relatives have ever been. 

There’s also the thought that attempting to seduce Hux’s family would work exceedingly poorly for Ben, what with Hux’s brothers being nonexistent and his father being… well… Hux’s father. 

No. There’s absolutely no way Ben could fuck his way through Hux’s family. Snobbish arseholes that they are. 

Hux sighs and scrubs the floor harder. He hates relationships. He always has. But this is Ben, who he quite likes and maybe even considered having something long term with. It’s heinously unfair that he’s run off, but maybe that’s the true work of karma. Hux has fucked so many guys over and now karma’s come to do the same to him. 

-

Phasma comes home to find Hux on his knees before the kitchen counter, scrubbing furiously at the peeling paint. She blinks and glances around the room.  _ Everything  _ is clean. The only thing that could be deemed not clean is the table which is covered in scraps of paper detailing Hux’s cleaning strategy. 

Hux glances over at her. She’s almost frozen in the entry, blank-faced. Hux is about to go back to scrubbing when there’s movement behind her and he catches sight of one of Ben’s stupid ears. 

There’s a moment where nobody moves and then Hux is hurling the spray bottle at the doorway, narrowly skimming it past Phasma’s shoulder and straight into Ben’s face. 

Phasma scowls at him, probably thinks he could’ve hit her with it. Hux had archery lessons till he was eighteen though and knows how to aim exceedingly well. 

Behind Phasma, Ben’s cursing colourfully, sounding bewildered and no small level of pissed off.  “What the fuck Hux?” he calls, pushing past Phasma into the flat. 

“Ditto,” Hux replies, getting off his knees and straightening his apron (it was required, as detailed in page thirty-two of his cleaning strategy). “And also, where the fuck have you been?”

“What?”

“It’s been three days.” 

“Yeah?” Ben asks, “what about it?”

“I haven’t heard from you. I’m not some slut, you know.” 

Phasma snorts at this, moving into the room and shutting the door behind her. She settles into the couch and upon seeing them staring, waves her hand magnanimously. “Continue,” she orders, “I’m due some entertainment.”

Hux glares and is about to tell her to fuck off back to the witchy hole she climbed out of, but Ben beats him with, “we don’t talk. I don’t even have your phone number.”

Phasma cackles. 

“I figured I’d just see you again next dnd night,” Ben continues and Hux suddenly feels rather warm. “Which, you know, is tonight.” 

“Oh,” Hux mumbles, drawn for a second to feeling guilty. Problem being, Armitage Hux doesn’t  _ do  _ guilty. He draws himself up to his full height, apron be damned. “Well, you can get out. I don’t want you here right now.”

Ben pauses. “It’s dnd.” 

“Not tonight it isn’t,” Hux sneers.

“What? Hux-”

“No,” Hux interrupts, “I don’t want you here. Get out.” 

“Fuck,” Ben swears, “you’re so goddamn  _ insane,  _ sometimes.”

“That’s pretty rich coming from you,” Hux shoots back, “Mr ‘call me Kylo in bed.’ And I’m the insane one?”

Phasma snorts out a laugh, seemingly unable to help it, and Ben’s cheeks flame red in what could be embarrassment or outrage. Probably a mix of the two.

Hux winces. He’d forgotten Phasma was right there. 

“You know what Hux,” Ben yells, “forget it. Just forget about all of it. It was a mistake, and I should have known it would be. I’m sorry I didn’t see you for three fucking days, really I spent the whole fucking time missing you. I didn’t think you’d care. I didn’t know, okay? I didn’t fucking know you had feelings!” He shakes his head and stomps out the door, muttering angrily. 

Phasma waits for the door to slam closed before raising an eyebrow at him. “I’m not surprised,” she offers. 

“Yeah,” Hux sighs, rubbing his nose, “yeah, I’m such a fucking disaster.” 

“No, I mean about calling him Kylo in bed,” Phasma counters, then seems to reconsider. “But yeah, you are such an idiot. And you ruined dnd night, which is the lowest level of class. Do you even know how hard it is to organise dnd nights?”

There’s a knock on the door, and it creaks open with no pause for an answer. Poe pokes his head in looking a little like he’s been stood out there cringing for a minute and trying to decide if coming in is worthwhile. 

“Is - uh - is dnd not on today?” he asks awkwardly, “cause Ben just stormed past me.”

“No,” Phasma interrupts, “I’m afraid not. Our rogue and our paladin are having some issues, but they will resolve them before next session.” She gives Hux a stern look. 

“Not likely,” Hux says, because he knows himself and he’s stubborn. Always has been. 

“Yes,” Phasma counters, “likely.” 

“No it fucking isn’t.” 

-

“What the fuck,” Hux says, heart in his throat. He’s not an easily startled kind of guy, but there’s not a lot someone can do to prepare themselves for random assholes in their house when they aren’t meant to be. “How did you get in?” Hux questions, “did Phasma  _ invite you here!?” _

“Well,” Ben says awkwardly, “no, but the door was open -” 

“No it wasn’t.” 

“It was unlocked _ -”  _

“ _ No it fucking wasn’t _ ,” Hux interrupts. He just came through it and no, it really wasn’t. “You can’t just break into my house when I’m not here.”

“I need to talk to you,” Ben says pleadingly, and maybe Hux would care if he hadn’t had the worst day ever, and then came home to a fucking home invasion. 

“I don’t care what you need Ben.”

Ben’s face contorts into that dumb determined look he gets when he’s about to do something stupid. “You like me,” he declares, pointing at Hux with one big hand, “I know you do. I wasn’t sure at first. Fuck, I wasn’t even sure when I was goddamn fucking you, but you do. You wanted me to stay, you wanted to see me.” 

Hux opens his mouth - “Don’t deny it - and shuts it again. 

“I - I had work,” Ben says, and he’s getting all up in Hux’s space now, like he has any right, like Hux isn’t going to stop him. He tries to - kind of, not really - reaches out an arm until Ben grabs his hand like a lifeline. “I should’ve left you a note. I knew - I should’ve, but I - well - you- ” he winces, “kind of have a reputation.”

Hux can’t stop his cringe. 

“I thought you wouldn’t want that,” Ben says, shrugs, tacks on “feelings,” in a silly voice, “but you do. So - yes, I broke into your house - but I know you want me here and I want to stay… with you.” 

Hux can’t summon words for a long while, simply stares until Ben shrinks under his gaze. He doesn’t let go of Hux’s hand but adds a small, “please.” 

It’s the please that gets him. Well, it’s Ben that gets him, cause he’s weak for Ben, soft for him, always has been. 

“You - you can stay,” Hux says, like he’s allowing it and not asking for it, “but only if you explain Kylo Ren to me.”

“He - uh,” Ben laughs shakily, “this is embarrassing. He’s like this guardian sent to protect you and serve you, and every time he dies he gets brought back cause his job isn’t finished.”

Hux blinks, brow furrowed in thought. “So… it’s like terminator?”

“What?”

“Terminator 2, you know? Where the terminator is sent back in time to protect John Connor but is also programmed to obey him.”

“I -” Ben looks nonplussed, “I guess.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Hux says, nodding, “that's hot. You can stay.”

“I can?”

“Not forever,” Hux amends, “but for now. I’d like to date you, I think.” The words feel strange coming out of his mouth. He hasn’t said anything like them ever. 

“Yeah?” Ben says, mouth tugging up in a half-smile, looking so unbelievably pleased it makes Hux feel warm. 

“Yeah. I think we’ll do fine” Hux says, feeling a little too cheesy. In an effort to bring himself back into a more familiar place, and possibly wipe that smugness from Ben’s face, he adds, “and I  _ really  _ don’t want to fuck Poe.” 

“You what?”


End file.
